(John Fante inspired, if you don't know him, go buy Ask The Dust right fucking now)
Brittany, I want to know your thoughts,
your wants,
your needs,
yet,
I can't!
There's something wrong,
horribly wrong.
And oh Brittany, lovely, sweet Brittany,
with your silence that makes noise useless,
with that aura of nothingness that envelops my being.
There is still something wrong.
What is it Brittany?
Tell me with your explosive hush,
your all encompassing expanse of absence!
Alas, I may never know.
But know this!
Brittany, I ponder you, enslaved by my own desires,
and yet I always retreat,
in a perpetual state of confusion.
I may not have told you my thoughts,
but I have told myself them hundreds of times over.
You have not gone unnoticed.
Brittany, I want to know your thoughts,
your wants,
your needs,
yet,
I can't!
There's something wrong,
horribly wrong.
And oh Brittany, lovely, sweet Brittany,
with your silence that makes noise useless,
with that aura of nothingness that envelops my being.
There is still something wrong.
What is it Brittany?
Tell me with your explosive hush,
your all encompassing expanse of absence!
Alas, I may never know.
But know this!
Brittany, I ponder you, enslaved by my own desires,
and yet I always retreat,
in a perpetual state of confusion.
I may not have told you my thoughts,
but I have told myself them hundreds of times over.
You have not gone unnoticed.
